


Hopelessly Devoted To You

by In_Much_Stress



Series: Just A Random Playlist [46]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alpha Technoblade, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, No Beta We Die Like Endermen, Omega Dream, Pining Technoblade, Possibly Unrequited Love, Song: Hopelessly Devoted To You (Grease), Stop trying to fight windmills instead of actual giants, actual tags, screeching our lungs out, that's all i'm going to say, to the antis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 08:02:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27467641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/In_Much_Stress/pseuds/In_Much_Stress
Summary: I would put a ravager in a flower pot if you so much as hinted you wanted one.KEEP IN MIND that this was made for us, shippers, and us only and you should not show this to either CC unless given clear and enthusiastic consent. Also, if you're gonna waste your time telling me to stop, I want you to think for a second and go find something to do with your life, because you ain't righteous and you sure ain't protecting anyone, Anti.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/Dave | Technoblade
Series: Just A Random Playlist [46]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1639864
Comments: 38
Kudos: 879





	Hopelessly Devoted To You

**Author's Note:**

> Hopelessly Devoted To You by Olivia Newton-John

People will probably think that the festival was a success in Technoblade's point of view. That since he kept following his views and did what he does best—doing whatever the Hell he wants—, he'd consider it a win, a victorious day to remember.

People will be wrong.

Dread curls up inside his ribcage and his tongue is attacked by the bitter aftertaste of a meaningless triumph as he approaches his base.

The first thing he does once he's finally inside the safe walls if his safe hiding hole is to take off everything he has on him. Some items he just carelessly throws somewhere, some he gently puts away int their correct place. Some things in life just ask for a bit more care, don’t they? Once that's done, he grabs a change of clothes and directs himself to a little bathing area he built, as his paranoia wouldn't ever allow him to be vulnerable in the open to bathe in the river. The water is cold against his skin while he washes himself until his skin is angrily pink, the only caution he takes is to not hurt himself with his nails. He doesn’t want his guest to smell his blood and add one more worry to his back.

Once he deems himself clean enough, Techno dries himself and dresses up as quickly as possible, not bothering to give his long damp hair the attention he probably should. Throwing his towel carelessly, he starts making his way to the only other room in his base. Since he lived alone, he saw no reason to have a bedroom separated from the rest of his stuff, but now he has someone else living with him, even if for a short time, and the mere idea of having the guy he’s been crushing on for months in his bed filled the pinkett with too many emotions he’d rather not poke now… or ever.

God, the smell is strong even in the hallway. A mix of fruit, probably lime, and grass, like a refreshing sunny day. There is a touch of sweetness to it, pointing out the heat of an omega, the scent attacking Techno’s senses and making his mouth water. Part of him wants to make a hole in the ground and bury his head until the smell goes away and he doesn’t have to worry about losing his mind. Another part of him wants to throw the door open and bury his head between two creamy legs.

Needless to say, he’s having a crisis.

“Dream?” Techno knocks on the door. “Dream, I’m back.”

“Come in…” Comes the answer, breathless and shaky.

Technoblade takes a fortifying breath, which helps nothing because it just makes him inhale more of the omega’s delicious scent, which in turn sends a jolt of arousal through all his body that stops only at his already hardening dick.

His crisis just got worse. Joy.

Dream being an omega is not as surprising as some might think. Sure, he doesn’t have the usual meekness and quietness expected from omegas, nor does he have the wish of settling down and having a peaceful life with a mate and a family. Dream is chaotic and free-spirited, he’s confident and loud, he craves a good adventure or, at the very least, a nice trip. Stagnation is the bane of his existence. But he has the other omega traits, “mother henning” and being very cuddly being the biggest ones. He’s that person who will troll you one second, and die for you the next. Or kill for you, Dream has done that, too.

So when he came out as an omega, Technoblade had not been surprised. He had been delighted, actually. Because, as an alpha, it’s much easier for him to court an omega, simply because alphas are naturally too stupid to see the courting as courting when it comes from another alpha. Romance between alphas is not unheard of, but most of them start with a lot of fighting, and as much as the pinkett enjoys the whole rivalry thing with the blonde, his poor heart can’t take the idea of somehow getting the other actually furious with him 24/7.

Whoever said that omegas were the weak ones clearly had no idea of how fragile the hearts of alphas really are.

Anyways, Dream being an omega means Techno has a slightly higher chance of courting him. Problem: The other alphas also have the same chance. Bigger problem: some of those alphas are already much closer to the omega. Even bigger problem: Techno just killed someone Dream considered one of his.

But who’s counting, right?

The omega _did_ decide to have one of his rare heats in Techno’s base, instead of wherever the blonde hides when he’s not round being shady, wreaking havoc or helping others wreak havoc while being shady. Or wherever his friends, all betas and alphas, could take care of him. That has to count for _something,_ right?

With a sigh, Techno opens the wooden door. He almost closes it as the scent gets so strong it practically slaps him in the face and calls him a horny bitch, but he steels himself, squares his shoulders and soldiers on. The door closes with a click, preventing the scent to go all the way to the rest of his base. His red eyes meet the figure sprawled on the beds—yes, _beds,_ he had built three beds and put them together to make a “mega bed” so the omega could have as much space to nest as he wanted—and for a second he wants to turn around and run before he could give into temptation and finally sate the hunger boiling inside him.

Dream looks criminally delicious, dressed only in his boxers and a big shirt that definitely is Techno’s, skin contrasting beautifully with the pink sheets—in Techno’s defense, pink is a great color for bedsheets—, his messy hair looking like a golden halo under the tremulous light of the torches, lips red thanks to his bad habit of biting them, green eyes, usually so piercing, a little glazed over. Surrounding him, various items make his nest: bedsheets, pillows, a comforter, some towels, some clothes—some are Dream’s, some are his friends’ given to him exactly for these situations, there is another of Techno’s shirts and his spare cape. Technoblade wants to join him so badly, but this time the blood in his hands is bothering him too much.

“How was it?” Dream asks, kneeling so he can look directly at the alpha.

“Eh, what you would expect.” Techno shrugs, still planted on the entrance of the room, the wooden door offering some stability to his body as his next words leave his lips. “I killed Tubbo.”

The beauty kneeling on the bed looks at Techno with an unreadable look in his face. There is no sadness, no happiness, no rage, nothing. Dream’s eyes are very green and even more empty as Techno recounts what happened in the Festival. How the massacre went, how Jschlatt asked him to kill Tubbo, and how he did even though he knew it’d hurt a lot of people. Thing is, as much as Tommy raged and as much as Tubbo now fears the mere sight of Techno, the boy is now fully free from Jschlatt. Sure, there might have been another way, but at that moment, Jschlatt could’ve gotten Tubbo killed by anyone else, and that someone might not have let the last of L’Manburg run to the safety of Pogtopia. Wilbur himself would’ve just exploded Manberg in its entirety, it all be damned.

You can’t fault a man for seizing the opportunity.

But none he says takes away the pain that finally settles in the eyes of his beloved, or the pain that pierces his heart each time a tear runs down freckled cheeks. The mouth-watering scent from earlier becomes increasingly more sour and even salty as the omega’s distress rises.

Much like alphas, omegas are _very_ territorial. If an omega allowed you to come stay in their territory, that means you’re one of _theirs._ Not necessarily pack, but still theirs, like a kingdom to a king. It doesn’t matter what nations rise, this is still the Dream SMP, this is still Dream’s domain, and they are all, to some extent, _Dream’s people._

God, Techno can’t even imagine how the blonde must’ve felt during the first war. As much as he loves chaos and messing with people, having to kill his people because of a war started out of greed and rage definitely did things to Dream. It’s no wonder that his roles have been less upfront than before, going to the front lines again must be too hurtful.

“Techno.” The blonde calls, extending a hand.

Technoblade tries to take a step back, only to hit his ankle painfully against the wooden door, the loud noise making the omega flinch. The pinkett holds back the urge to rush to the bed and make himself comfortable inside the nest, to hold the other to his chest until he’s no longer crying and his scent is back to that agradable mix of grass and lime, to purr—purr! How long has it been since Techno has purred?—like a soft lullaby until the omega falls in a sweet sleep. He _absolutely can’t._ He does not care that everyone here has killed everyone, and that his hands in particular are way more stained than most. He is not going to touch the omega of his dreams mid-heat after killing one of his.

“Dream.” His voice is serious, almost chiding, but all the omega does is stubbornly whimper, practically poking at his alpha instincts.

With a heavy sigh, Techno approaches, the carpet on the floor tickling his bare feet as he walks. Slowly, he gets on the bed and inside the nest, trying to not dismantle it too much with his moving. Once he’s safely situated inside, he takes the hand offered to him in his, ignoring how much his own tremble as he brings nimble fingers to his lips. Techno can’t help pressing his nose to the other’s skin and breathing in the addicting aroma that is slowly but steadily returning to the earlier state.

From what the blonde had told him, Dream’s heats are rare, he can go _months_ without having one, but when they hit, _they hit._ Supposedly, this one is one of the “lighter” ones, and Dream could barely leave the bed during the first three days. It had taken the alpha every ounce of self-control to feed the omega and help him clean himself—he even built a bathroom attached to the room! Techno is not religious, but the fact his rut has not triggered at all is definitely proof there is something keeping the balance of the Universe.

Techno looks up at the green eyes he’s so besotted with and, as he suspected, they’re glazing over again.

“I’m sorry.” Dream whispers, coming closer. He whimpers a little when his forehead touches Techno’s shoulder. “You’re already going through a lot and I’m just adding to it.”

“... that’s my line.”

“I’m sorry, my heat is probably stressing you out.”

“Eh, I’m always stressed.”

“I’m sorry, I’m being such a burden.”

“... you’re never a burden, Dream.”

Now, Techno is known to lie, but he is being absolutely truthful. Even though he has already broken all his records on self-control and patience multiple times, even though he had trained like crazy skills that needed no honing to keep his mind from straying, even though he had actually worried about the rooms he built, even though he had made the effort to make sure only the softest sheets and fluffiest pillows reached the blonde’s nest, even though right now he can feel himself getting harder, even though he desperately wants to fuck the wits out of Dream until the alpha’s name is the only thing he remembers as said alpha bites his claiming mark on the appetizing neck practically being presented to him… He simply can’t see Dream as a burden.

Oh, look, his crisis is back.

“You’re too sweet…” Techno snorts, feeling the blonde poke his stomach before repositioning himself so he can sit on the pinkett’s lap, and on his hardening dick. Joy. “You are! You’ve been taking such good care of me… Such a good alpha, you’re going to make some omega really, really happy.”

_Yeah, can that be you?_

“You should sleep and I should leave. The next spike is probably close, and I don’t want to risk it triggering my rut.” He says, but his treacherous arms hug the other closer, hands resting on his lower back.

“Would that be so bad?”

“Dream, I could literally _claim you_ without thinking. Basic biology, you don’t leave unmated alphas in rut nearby unmated omegas in heat.”

“... would that be so bad?”

“Dream, you don’t want to be mated to the guy who literally just killed a child, and you certainly don’t want to do it when both of us are out of our minds—”

Technoblade’s breath catches as he feels the blonde grind down on his erection. Dream himself is already hard, and the pinkett knows that if his hands go lower, he’ll probably find wet underwear. The warm body against his tremble, and when he looks down, he’s met with green eyes glazed in lust. The sweet smell mixed with the omega’s natural aroma hits him again, stealing all the air in his lungs. Shit, shit, shit, the spike is going to hit earlier than he thought. He needs to leave _now_ or they both will do something they will regret.

“Dream, don’t make me use the voice.” He pleads.

Techno really doesn’t want to use his alpha voice, it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, the knowledge that he could overthrow Dream’s will so easily, but he’s starting to get desperate. The blonde grinds against him again, this time going as far as niping on his neck. Scratch that, the alpha is definitely desperate. Red eyes closed, he can feel heat pooling into him and his own scent get stronger. If Techno stays another minute, there will be no way to prevent his rut, and if his rut happens while he’s still in his base, nothing will prevent him from taking what isn’t his.

“Is it so bad that I like the idea of you losing your mind because of me?”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.” Comes out more like a growl, and waves of pleasure rushes through him when the omega trembles in response.

_No. No, bad Techno. Don’t you fucking dare._

“Is it so bad that I like the idea of you being my alpha?”

Ok. Record scratch.

“What?” Techno looks down at the blonde in his arms, only to be met with watery yet very lucid green eyes.

“I’ve practically offered myself to you! Are you  _ that _ disgusted by the idea of having me as your mate? All this time you have been taking care of me has been out of pity? Am I  _ that _ unattractive?”

Ok, ok, Universe,  _ please,  _ give Technoblade some answers because he’s about to explode. He started the evening with a heavy heart and tainted hands,  _ he literally killed a kid that technically was Dream’s,  _ and now the reason behind his heavy heart is basically offering himself in a golden plate—because Techno is not “virtuous”, he’s able to admit that he doesn’t particularly care about the probably scarred boy beyond the fact he’s alive and together with his loud-mouth best friend. Everything he was feeling earlier is because of Dream, because the omega is at his most vulnerable  _ and  _ people just won’t stop starting wars in  _ his _ territory. And now this gorgeous bastard is basically brushing it all aside to question Techno’s attraction to him.

Whoever is writing this universe’s narrative clearly doesn’t know what a plot is.

_ “I killed Tubbo.” _ The alpha repeats, in hopes of reminding the omega of the entire situation, but all he manages is to make the omega crumble even more.

“I’m sorry, you’re right, this is stupid. I’m being silly. Sorry.” Dejectedly, the blonde lets go of Techno so he can curl in the bed like a kicked puppy. “You can go now.”

If this is a ploy by God to make Techno a religious man, it’s starting to work. The sigh that leaves him probably breaks all the records of length and overall  _ Done™,  _ deflating his lungs in one go. The inhale after, however, breaks his heart into a million pieces, filling his senses with the scent of distraught  _ and _ sad omega in heat. Great, now the  _ other _ alpha instincts are kicking in, urging him to comfort the omega and making his protectiveness feed into his possessiveness and vice-versa, a never ending snake eating its own tail.

Did he mention he’s also hard as a rock? For a supposedly merciful entity, God doesn’t seem to want to pull any punches.

Well, maybe Technoblade shouldn’t either.

“Dream, I’ve been suffering this entire week because I want to  _ fuck you into the mattress, bite a claiming mark on your neck and fill you with my pups.” _ He says, manhandling the omega until he’s comfortably resting between two very nice thighs. He grabs the hands he’s been daydreaming about for months, intertwining their fingers. “Do you hear me? I want you so badly it  _ hurts.” _

Dream whines when Techno grinds down on him, the air now heavy with both of their arousals coming with a vengeance. The green eyes he loves—yeah, he  _ loves,  _ get a load of this hopeless idiot—are still watery, though, and it won’t do.

“I took care of you because you asked, do you have any idea how much I had to hold back from preening when you chose me instead of your friends? Do you have any idea how far I would go for you? Do you have any idea how much of a devoted fool you make me?”

“I thought—”

“You thought  _ wrong,  _ so listen to me: I would put a ravager in a flower pot if you so much as hinted you wanted one.”

“Why would—?!” The omega bursts in a fit of laughter, legs swinging wildly and fingers gripping Techno’s hands tighter. Techno himself can’t help the chuckle bouncing off of his chest.

“Don’t laugh, that’s how badly I’m simping for you. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get a ravager to sit still? They’re the coolest mob, but also so goddamn dumb.”

“Oh, so that’s why you like them so much? You relate to them.”

“What are you trying to imply, mister?”

Teasingly, Techno moves against the body under his, making the blonde jolt and moan. Before he could get drunk in the obscene noises from the object of his affections, Techno leans down, bringing their foreheads together. Red eyes look directly at green, and soon there is no way of knowing whose breath is hitting which pair of lips. The warmth of his pre-rut becomes nearly searing, but he pushes it all aside to deposit a barely there kiss in the lips he’s been fantasizing about.

“I’m not a worthy alpha. I killed some of yours, one of them was a child, and I don’t even care about that. Tubbo barely can stand being in the same  _ biome _ as me now, but all I could think is how much it would hurt you. An alpha is supposed to worry about theirs, but all I can worry about is  _ you.” _

“That makes you the perfect alpha  _ for me.  _ Is it so bad… that I want to be the only thing in your mind?”

That is what pushes the alpha over the edge. The kiss they share is downright  _ sinful  _ despite his efforts to make it slow and savouring, a result of their secondary genders and their biologies, but it carries every bit of reverence he has for the blonde. It’s not a loving kiss, but it is full of love. He can feel Dream squirm under him, most likely trying to free his hands so he could touch Techno. The pinkett complies with the silent pleads, wasting no time to trail kisses down the other’s neck once their lips separate, purring when warm hands guide his face to where the omega wants him.

The scent of blood mixes with Dream’s—lime and grass with a hint of sweetness thanks to the heat—and Techno’s—leather and parchment—as the alpha finally claims what he desires more than anything.

* * *

It’s much later when they fall back on the mattress, spent and sated, covered in sweat and other bodily fluids. Dream is quick to curl up to his alpha, and Techno relishes in the feeling of hugging his omega. They spend a few moments there, in the middle of a very messy nest, completely naked, enjoying the silence, before Techno remembers one thing.

“Why  _ did _ you come to me, anyways? I mean, aren’t all your friends betas and alphas?”

“... I was going to confess to you, but I had no idea how, so SapNap told me that since my heat was coming, I should go to you.”

“... you two are stupid. What if I took advantage of you?”

“I knew you wouldn’t.”

“What if I hurt you?”

“I knew you wouldn’t. Besides, you’d have an army of alphas and betas to fight, I don’t think you’d be that dumb.”

“And what if I mated you and rejected you after? Do you know how dangerous a broken bond can be to omegas? You could even die!”

“... then I guess I’d die happy…”

Oh, look, the excruciating pain of a thousand needles piercing his heart is back. Thanks, Universe, Technoblade hates it. With a deep sigh—yep, definitely breaking some records—, he kisses the blonde head of his omega, committing to mind the feeling of a warm body against him. The claiming on his neck mark throbs a little as he gently runs his fingers on the one on his lover’s neck.

“You’re hopeless.”

“Yes, I’d give you a ravager in a flower pot too.”


End file.
